Sunday, July 22, 2007

OK, Cosmos, I get it. Message received, loud and clear.

I'm often impressed with the way the universe decides to drive particular messages home to me. I just put up a post about carbon emissions and animal livestock last Friday. My friend Jai just put up a post on his blog about The Center for the New American Dream's C3 project--a project designed to give people ideas for small ways through which they can reduce their personal carbon footprints-- and subsequently, I put a button for it down there at the bottom of my own blog. And for reasons that really have little to do with ecology, I'd decided to greatly reduce my own intake of animal products a couple of months ago. But it seems the mindful eating and mindful consumerism have become something of a crusade for me. And the universe just keeps putting information in my path that lead me to believe I'm on the right track.

By now, I feel like I've watched a million documentaries about how the American food pipeline is a wonderland of horrors. I can't remember the last time I frequented a McDonald's or a Burger King or a Wendy's or a KFC or a Jack-in-the-Box. The stuff those establishments peddle does not provide nutrition that would support a high-functioning body. Beyond that, contrary to popular opinion, that crap really doesn't even taste good. I know some folks will argue with me there, but if you can accustom yourself to eating a better quality of food, the smell alone of your average BigMac is likely to turn your stomach. But I dutifully watched Morgan Spurlock's Supersize Me and I blogged long and hard about a documentary that I loved, Milk in the Land: Ballad of an American Drink. But I know a documentary is a hard sell for most folks (god knows why! Nonfiction filmmaking is in the middle of a renaissance of some note right now.).

So along comes Richard Linklater's latest ensemble piece, Fast Food Nation, based on the (nonfiction) book of the same title by Eric Schlosser. Somehow, these two, as a writing-directing team, have managed to magically conjure a deeply disturbing realist-fiction feature out Schlosser's exhaustive research on the fast food industry. The phrase "required viewing" or "required reading" has become something of a regular recurrence in my blog. And I realize that I've developed a propensity towards self-righteousness about all things food-oriented. But, holy hell, the message of this movie is scary--and important.

This film elucidates the way this industry abuses its immigrant work force (denying them disability and insurance rights on the merest suspicion of drug use, forcing them to work in a virtual war zone of animal offal and flayed carcases, undertraining them such that they are prone to slicing open the entrails of the animals in such a way that the fecal matter gets spewed all over the meat (and then blaming them for the mistakes), subjecting them to extremely dangerous machinery (that has been known to remove more than a few human limbs--I don't suppose it's surprising to learn meatpacking is the most dangerous job in the country, causing more than 24% of work-related deaths annually) with similarly inadequate and slap-dash training, etc, etc, etc...). It elucidates problems with the ways the industry exploits the primarily teenage workforce in the restaurants themselves. And it elucidates a grand, grand disconnect between the corporate marketers and the veritable sewage that they're selling.

And then the film shows us how unconscionably badly the cattle are treated. They're kept in miserably tight confines (often, there's not enough room for them to turn around) where they get to muck about in their own excrement and are seldom given access to actual daylight. Often, the animals are not only still alive, but STILL CONSCIOUS when the "processing" begins. The film is a top-down cross-section of one of the more corrupt business models in this country. And if you aren't appalled at all points throughout your viewing, I have no qualms with assuming you're a heartless, ethically devoid asshole. So there.

However, among brilliant turns in this film is Lou Taylor Pucci, the kid from one of the best coming-of-age films ever: Thumbsucker. Despite a dyed-black, scraggly-looking wig, it appears that his progressing adolescence is treating him very well. And he also had one of the best lines in the movie--he plays a kid involved in a high school group of environmental activists, and another character has an idea about cutting a hole in the fence that holds all the cattle slated for becoming burger meat. The discussion arises about how such an act could be perceived as an act of eco-terrorism and then all the kids would be subject to sanctions via the Patriot Act. And so, he says something along the lines of "Well, in this case, maybe the most patriotic action we can take is to ignore The Patriot Act!" Hmm-- well, it seems less forceful when I relay it here, but it was darn punchy at its moment in the movie-- and it draws an important and pointed connection between concerns regarding food supply and virtually every other major political issue at play on the American landscape right now. And IMDb tells me that he's in the forthcoming film adaptation of David Foster Wallace's Brief Interviews with Hideous Men (can't wait!). Catalina Sandino Moreno is luminous as ever, though not quite as transcendent as she was in Maria Full of Grace. Wilmer Valderama is entirely too well-groomed and metrosexual to make a convincing bracero, but it's nice to see him as something other than the sibilant Fez from That 70's Show. An unexpected performance from Bruce Willis is another high point. And Ashley Johnson, who was once the youngest Seaver on Growing Pains, seems to have turned herself into a respectably intense young actress.

Also, because the movie is set all along the immigrant's trail between the Mexican border and a fictional Colorado town, Linklater saw fit to include a very nice little local cameo-- Fat Tire beer! For anyone who has ever lived in a Western state, Fat Tire is the quasi-local brew of choice, coming out of Fort Collins, Colorado (they were also the unofficial sponsor of any social event held at my house when I lived in Tucson, even if that event was nothing more than Michelle and I sitting around the mesquite grill, watching the portobellos cook!). In your inevitable (uh--highly encouraged) perusal of their website, please note their commitment to sustainability. It seems particularly significant that all the rebels in this film prominently tote their Fat Tire bottles and six-pack cartons. After all, whoever said eco-conscious activists didn't enjoy their adult beverages, too?

And then, when you've finished watching the film, there are several animated shorts on the DVD's extras menu that are not to be missed. Most of them can be found at this site. But the "Reverse Hamburger" one is probably the most disturbing of them all. This little piece somehow manages to summarize the entirety of Milk in the Land in under 5 minutes. And it does it with a cartoon. Perfectly brilliant.

Now, add all the information about the mainstream food pipeline that is to be gleaned from Fast Food Nation to all the information in my previous post about how animal agriculture is contributing to global warming and how can we all NOT be motivated to cut back on our consumption of meat and dairy? Seriously, readers! You don't have to go all vegan like I have, but maybe eating meat once or twice a week instead of twice a day? Maybe deciding that you really just don't want the folks behind the unethical business practices that control most fast-food restaurant chains getting any more of your hard-earned cash? Maybe signing C3's pledge this month and committing to consuming one pound of locally-grown food, so as to reduce the carbon emissions created by the transport of non-local food? These are such small things.

If you love me at all, you'll at least consider it. Pretty please?

UPDATE: I completely forgot to mention the scene in which Greg Kinnear sniffs chemicals out of bottles that contain the flavorings for all the various products that Fast Food Nation's fictional restaurant chain serves. He nods along saying, "oh, that's delicious!" or "hmm... maybe the customer will expect more lime with a name like 'Calypso.'" To this, an anonymous lap-coated guy rattles off the names of some complicated-sounding chemical compounds that correspond to the "lime" sensors in our tastebuds.

This scene is absolutely factually based. Our idea of "French fry taste" has very little to do with the actual flavor of a fried potato. "French fry taste" is solely a concoction of the behind-the-scenes chemists who work in fast-food restaurant test kitchens. And people doubt me when I say I don't think this stuff tastes like food? I actually DO eat real food. Therefore, I know what food tastes like. I'm tellin' ya-- liquid smoke, beef flavoring and fake lime are a far cry from a real hickory barbecue sauce or a real burger or a real caribbean-flavored anything. This is simply a matter of acclimatization. It is that to which we've all grown accustomed. It creeps me right the hell out.

Doesn't anyone else find the notion that our idea of what foods taste like has been wholly manipulated by a bunch of chemists, rather than determined by what food ACTUALLY tastes like, to be a little more than disturbing? Anyone?

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